


My Angel

by Ginger_kitty



Series: Tomorrow is Promised to No One [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Fantasy, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginger_kitty/pseuds/Ginger_kitty
Summary: Alistair and Ana having sex after Ana thought she had lost him to the Fade at Adamant.
Relationships: Alistair/Leliana (Dragon Age)
Series: Tomorrow is Promised to No One [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824676
Kudos: 6





	My Angel

Alistair was exhausted. He stood in the Command tent while Max tried to explain to Cullen what had happened in the Fade, reluctant to sit in case he fell asleep. It wasn’t just the fighting, or the constant whispering horrors of the Nightmare; it was the absence, the silence. The Calling was gone. Months of hearing it in his head, humming it under his breath, the seductive song sitting at the back of his mind even in his dreams, all gone and the constant pressure it brought was gone also. In its place was bone deep weariness that made him want to cry. 

They had known the Calling wasn’t true, when they both woke one day hearing it in their heads. It was almost right, almost true, but for the only two Wardens in living memory who had been in the presence of an Archdemon and lived, there was something missing. They had argued for hours about what to do next before finally agreeing that Alistair would return to Ferelden while Kallian continued their quest, separate for the first time since Alistair had returned from Weisshaupt after the Blight. He hadn’t heard from her since.

Soldier’s Peak and Vigil’s Keep had both been deserted, the only clue a letter at each from the Orlesian Warden Commander Clarel and Avernus muttering about everyone disappearing when the Calling began. So he had sought out Clarel and made himself an exile and a target when he couldn’t convince them that the Calling was false and that even if it wasn’t, blood magic was not a good idea. He barely made it out alive and was heading for Leliana and the Conclave, hoping his Bard would know what was going on, when the sky tore open right on top of where she was supposed to be.

From there everything had been a blur of grief and desperate survival. He had contacted Hawke to update him on his red lyrium investigations - there had been no sign of it in the years they had been on the road - and the brief correspondence had kept him from succumbing to despair and loneliness. But when Hawke had appeared in Crestwood, when he had told him his Ana was alive, that he had seen her with his own eyes, spoken to her, promised him that she was safe, it was as if his life had begun again.

It was funny, he thought, how intimidated he had been when they met in Lothering, how distrustful he had become when they discovered she had been a bard - a spy and possibly an assassin. When Kallian gently rejected his hesitant flirtations in favour of the experienced archer the intimidation and distrust had turned to sullen jealousy that embarrassed him to look back on.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a question from Cullen and then by what could only be called a kerfuffle outside the tent. Every one of the men jumped up, instinctively reaching for their weapons, when the flap was pushed aside and a red-headed whirlwind burst in. He hadn’t even had time to blink before she was in his arms, haranguing him in a muddle of Orlesian and Common, calling him everything from ‘salaud’ to ‘mon amour’ with scarcely a breath between them and far too fast for him to translate, covering him in kisses and running her hands over his arms and chest as if she could hardly believe he was real, and then she was dragging him out of the tent as he tried to glance apologetically at the others and they were all laughing at him but he just didn’t care.

Kali and Ana’s relationship had given him space to get to know Morrigan, had led to them falling deeply in love. These last months he had realised he would never be free of Morrigan, nor she of him, their love still as deep, connected by their son. But his last sight of her before Skyhold had been her walking away as he carried the unconscious Kallian from the ruins of Fort Drakon, shattered mentally and physically by what had happened on the rooftop. It was Leliana who put him back together. It was Ana who suggested to Kali that there might be room in their relationship for him. When they both woke with nightmares, Ana held them. When Kali miscarried the only child they might have had, Ana was the strong one for her, for them both, while Alistair fell apart again. He loved Kali, almost as much as he loved Mor, but Leliana was his saviour, his strength, his angel.

Not that there was much angelic about her, given she was now pushing him into a tent. It could have been hers, it could have been his, it could even have been a random tent that happened to sit where her patience had run out, he had no idea because as soon as they were inside she pulled him back down to her mouth, kissing and cursing him at the same time, her deft, delicate fingers undoing straps and buckles and laces while he fumbled with the ties on her surcoat.

“Ana, Ana stop.” He pushed her back for a moment and looked at her, crystal blue eyes darkened by her blown pupils, kiss-swollen lips pouting at him. He reached out and drew the back of his hand down the soft cheek, heart swelling as she nuzzled into it, her head turning to press a kiss against his palm. She stood like a statue as he slowly removed the leather and chain she still wore, untying cotton smallclothes, smoothing his hands over breasts that perfectly filled them and pinching lightly at the firm nipples before sliding down to her hips and around to her firmly muscled buttocks. Where Kali was slight and Morrigan rounded, Ana was the perfect mix of both as he knelt before her to pay homage to his Queen. He had thought her dead, lost to him forever, and no matter how long they had together, he would never forget that gaping hole of loss.

He leaned forward to lay a chaste kiss on the dew-soaked curls, light pecks working his way lower, bypassing her still hidden glory to mouth and tongue along the long, smooth thighs that trembled slightly. He felt her fingers entwine in his hair and looked up to see her head thrown back, long, white neck exposed and begging to be marked. For now he turned his head to suck a mark on the inside of her perfect thigh, watching with fascination as the pristine skin turned as red as the lips he now moved back towards. He tilted his head back, watching her perfect face as she watched him, and drew his tongue softly between those lower lips, parting them slightly, suckling on them without going any deeper, still watching as her perfect mouth smiled at him, the smile turning to a breathy, ‘oh’, as he swirled his tongue deeper, dipping inside before sliding up and swirling around the swelling bud. She pulled his hair more firmly, her hips rolling towards him, seeking to direct him, but he drew back just enough to tease her with his breath, kissing her outer lips once more before standing before her.

“Will you kill me, my Queen?” he whispered, finally remembering the words that had poured from her mouth. “Or will you chain me to your bed, so I can never leave again? I could wear a collar round my neck and you could take me everywhere, naked and bound, ready to service you anywhere, in front of anyone. I would kneel before you at the War Table and eat your beautiful cunt while the others give their reports, lapping and licking and sucking until the whole of Skyhold heard you scream. I could have come to Halamshiral with you, I know how The Game turns you on. You would have picked the place, Celene’s bed, the gardens, the middle of the fucking ballroom, I would strap your favourite toy to you and suck it wet while you opened me up with your sweet fingers, you could fuck me in front of them all, ramming your beautiful cock up the arse of the bastard prince in front of the whole Orlesian court, making me beg for release, pounding into me as your nails scrape down my back, making me come all over the dancefloor. I’d lick it up, every speck, just for you.”

As filthy ideas poured from his lips, his hand slipped between her legs, sliding where his tongue had, feeling the silky moisture soaking him, the feeling pulling a moan from his lips, making his cock twitch. He brought his hand out and brought it to her mouth, still speaking as she lightly licked her own juices from his fingers, swirling her tongue across them before drawing each one into her mouth and sucking on it, keeping eye contact as she did.

“My angel, my Queen, my Goddess. Would you rule me? Would you sit on a throne and watch me kneel before you? I know you, I know how wet you get, just watching. Maybe you would watch me putting on a show, would you like that, I could go down on my knees for one of your men, suck his cock until I choked on it, tears running down my cheeks, my throat filled as they take turns coming down my throat, or in my arse, or over me? Would you watch me getting fucked by your Inquisition, used and abused, filled with come over and over while you sat on that throne? Would you make me watch as they ate you out, as they fucked you, would you tie me up and make me beg as every one of them took you, a cock in every hole, the women lining up to suck on your tits, your clit, marking that soft, smooth skin?” She hummed, her lovely lilting voice thrilling through him, his Nightingale. 

She loved listening to him, fantasy after fantasy falling from his lips as she tasted herself on his fingers. Alistair was no exhibitionist, these things would never come to pass, but for him to put aside his shyness, his crippling insecurity as a result of a childhood of neglect and abandonment, to speak this way to her, it was a gift. He was gallant with Kallian, their love was gentle and sweet, but with her there were no barriers, only raw passion and she encouraged him to say these things he would never, ever do, to channel all the damage in him into their love. He had never so much as kissed a man, but the things he imagined just for her were beautiful in their violence. As she listened to his voice, she drew him over to the bedroll she had laid out for them, pulling him down over her and finally silencing him with sweet kisses.

“ _ Mon amour _ , I would do anything and everything for you,” she said, taking her turn to drop kisses down the firm muscled body, “My knight,” running her tongue along the edge of his pectorals, “My prince,” nipping at his nipples before biting down in the corner of his hip and leaving a red bloom to match the one on her thigh, “My king.” Never ‘my Warden,’ that was Kallian. “When I heard, I thought I would die. If you were lost in the Fade I would tear apart reality itself to bring you back to us, no demon would prevent me from bringing you home. I wish I could keep you in my room forever, tied to me forever, to show the world that you are mine, that I will ruin anyone who dares to lay a finger on you.” She nuzzled into his groin, her cheek stroking his cock softly, her tongue flickering out in tiny kitten licks between words. Then, suddenly, she sucked his balls into her mouth, moving them apart and then together again with her tongue, maintaining a rhythm that had him moaning her name. He reached down towards his cock but she managed to grab both wrists without moving her upper body, pushing them against his sides as he strained upwards, desperate for her mouth to move higher, while she kept up the constant pulling movements that were driving him crazy. Finally, she released his sac, kissing up the underside of his cock until the very tip was in her mouth. She kept her mouth moving, tongue stroking, dipping into the slit, sucking on the head, until Alistair was almost incoherent with lust, his arms tensing under her tight grasp as he resisted pulling away and pushing her head down as far as she could go. When she pulled off him, he almost sobbed, begging her, calling her his love, his Queen. She moved around until she lay atop him, facing that beautiful cock, her swollen, dripping cunt positioned over his face, a banquet before a starving man. She had released his hands and he pulled her thighs down towards him, forgoing all teasing this time as he dove in, sucking on her folds, his tongue digging into her entrance, catching her essence and swiping up to flick her clit, his moans vibrating against her as she leaned forward and swallowed him all the way down into her throat, swallowing convulsively, driving him higher and higher as his hips pumped up, fucking her mouth as his mouth fixed around her clit and copied her motions, both climbing closer and closer to their peak. Then Alistair flexed his muscles and literally lifted her off him, moving her onto her back and flipping them face to face and kissing her forcefully, pushing her legs open and slipping into her before rolling his hips deeper and deeper, shifting his angle until he pounded the soft spot inside her, drawing moan after moan, sliding his hand between them to tweak and rub at her clit until she screamed his name and liquid silk poured over him in time to the convulsions of her cunt, pushing him over the edge until he was groaning and coming hard inside her, their fluids leaking out before he even started to come down.

Finally, they managed to pull away from each other, just enough to lie facing each other, Alistair wrapping a lock of red hair gently round his finger while Leliana was happy to just watch him, noting every new line and scar on his body. Languid silence filled them, every barrier lowered when they were alone, quietly missing their third but enjoying their togetherness.

“I thought I had lost you,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I thought I was going to have to tell Kali you were gone. We would have assaulted the Fade itself if we had to bring you back.”

“I’m fine, Ana, I’m fine. I would never willingly leave you, either of you. I love you, darling, you’re my angel.” He leaned forward to catch her mouth in a kiss, not of bruising passion but gentle, sweet. “You’re my queen.”

She smiled and then laughed as she remembered why she had left Skyhold in the first place, why she had travelled across Orlais to a battlefield. She reached across to the pack beside her bedroll and drew a letter from it, the spiky writing immediately attracting Alistair’s attention and putting a huge grin on his face.

“She’s coming home, my knight. She’s coming home to us, she should be at Skyhold before we get back, and she found it.” She had found the cure, the hope of a future for the three of them, a promise of tomorrow.


End file.
